Where I Belong
by Krazygirl23
Summary: Massie Block is living every girls dream. The greatest best friends and life in New York but when her father gets laid off and she is sent to live with her grandparents her life  B.R- Before the Recession seems so far away.
1. Chapter 1

**Where I Belong**

**D-I-S-C-L-A-I-M-E-D**

Meet Massie Block. She's living every girl's dream in New York City—shopping sprees at Barneys, open access to the best clubs and parties, and her own horse at the country club. Her perfect life is perfectly on track. At least it was. . .

When Massie's father is laid off, her world suddenly falls apart. Instead of heading to boarding school, she's stripped of her credit cards and shipped off to the boonies of Texas to live with her grandparents. On her own in a big public school and forced to take a job shoveling manure, Massie is determined to get back to the life she's supposed to be living. She doesn't care who she stomps on in the process. But when Massie makes an unlikely friend and discovers a total hottie at work, she begins to wonder if her life B.R.—before the recession—was as perfect as it seemed.

How do you like it so far? Review mi amigos?


	2. Chapter 2

**Where I Belong**

**D-I-S-C-L-A-I-M-E-D**

My iPhone Loudly Sings a Little Ditty.

_She got diamonds on the sole of her shoes._

The Barneys saleswoman, dressed in a hideous avocado green dress, gives me a sharp look of disgust. Maybe she doesn't like Jake Simon's music. Stupid, it's a classic, and I don't have to change my ringtone each time Lady Gaga makes a costume change. Have you ever been to a party were twelve people have the same ringtone? So pathetic, it's almost as bad as two girls having the same signature scent.

From a distance I am pretty shirt avocado lady is rolling her eyes: Maybe she is one of those people who don't believe in using cell phones in public? Please, isn't that why they were invented? To make us mobile? And look around Miss. Barney's employee; I'm the only customer on the floor three, the designer collection department. It appears the whole recession thingamajig scared all the customers away.

She keeps staring at me and I know it isn't my clothes: I am wearing an Alice & Olivia lace summer white dress and nude Jimmy Choo heels with my brown hair (newly blonde highlighted) hair slicked back in a pony tail. And she's the same shopgirl who hasn't brought me the pair of Seven jeans that I asked for more than twenty minutes ago. She is probably ignoring me because I am a teenager. I just _hate _age discrimination, but I still refuse to shop in Juniors. First of all, I am a size five in Juniors and only a size four in Women's. Second of all, all the clothes in Juniors is cheap. I might be only sixteen years old, but I own plastic. That must count for something. The saleslady keeps glaring at me likes it's a new pastime, so I finally silence my phone. It's my mother anyway and I don't want to talk to her.

I don't want to talk to anyone. I shop alone. Sure, I'll occasionally have lunch with my friends at Fred's, the restaurant at Barney's. And I'll be sociable and make a courtesy loop or two of a store of a store afterward, but I won't wardrobe (aka power shop) with them. They either move to slow or claim they spotted that yellow eyelet Milly yellow dress first. And right now I am shopping for my first year of boarding school. This is serious.

When "Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes" booms in again I silence it again…I mean, really, Mom? We just spent the first two weeks of August in Nantucket, and I have less than two weeks before I need to leave for Kent, my new boarding school. I haven't even finalized my bedding and drapery because Kent has yet to tell me if I will be rooming with Alicia and Dylan, my best friends. Having never shared a room before, I totally tried to finagle a private room by lying and saying that I have a serious snoring problem. But the dean of the students said all roommates have issues and we just need to find a solution. Since a private room isn't going to happen, bunking with Alicia and Dylan is a better option than some foreign exchange student who doesn't shower daily.

Moving over to accessories, I model shades in the tiny mirror. After trying to remember if I have the same tortoiseshell Ray-Bans at home or if I just have the white, black and neon pink, I decide to buy them just in case.

_Bing! _bounces from inside my neon blue Marc Jacobs's purse.

A text from "her". That's how I put my mom in my phone. Funny, right?

Her: Family Meeting 7pm. Get home.

It's six and I'm supposed to do seven thirty sushi with the girls at BYOB (bring your own bottle) restaurant in East Village.

I text her back.

Massie: Fine but the meeting better last nanoseconds. I got plans.

I bring my purchases – two pairs of Notify jeans, the tortoiseshell Ray Bans (why not?) and orange Tory Burch flats- to the counter where Miss Bitter Saleswoman sits perched.

"I'd like those Sevens I asked for," I try to gently remind her how to do her job.

The saleswoman huffs off to try to find my jeans. After she packages everything into two Barneys black and white logo bags, I decide I'm definitely cabbing it. Those bags look heavy and it is way too hot to go into the dirty smelly subway.

After catching a bad outside I text Alicia and tell her I might be late.

Alicia: Don't B 2 late, we might drink all the vino and it's never fun 2 B the sober kid.

I roll my eyes and look out the window.

_Family meeting here I come._


	3. Chapter 3

Where I Belong

**D-I-S-C-L-A-M-I-E-D**

The cab pulls up to my building at Morton Street and The West Side Highway. I bound out the cab, buzz to open the gate and jog up to the marble front desk.

"Rudy, favor please: Hold on for one of these for me, please." I grin widely, extending one Barneys shopping bag.

Rudy, our hot 6'6 doorman who models on the side, takes the bag out of my hands and puts it behind the desk. I always leave one bag downstairs with Rudy so my parents don't know how much I'm spending. Then I retrieve it when I know my parents aren't around. This way, there only mad at me once a month when the credit card bill arrives versus every time I make a big spree.

I nudge Rudy with my elbow: "Thanks, Rudy. You totally help my publicity with the parents," I say and head to the elevators.

Stepping out of the elevator onto the thirteenth floor, I smell chicken. I haven't eaten meat all day because I am trying to go vegan to shed some poundage for back-to school. But still it smells divine, and I'd kill for a little piece. I am shocked to find a plate of some kind of yellow vegetable, brown rice and chicken in a plate with a note above the meal.

_Massie,_

_ Here's some left over dinner from tonight. You missed the family meeting again this week. Your father and I really need to talk to you about school. Have a good night, honey._

_ Love, Mom_

I roll my eyes and pull my hair out of the ponytail. I stroll down the hallway, into my bedroom. I slide of my heels and open my new MAC laptop I got for my birthday. I go directly to Facebook, straight to my notifications to check if Jake Cunnington, the hottest junior at Kent, had accepted my friend request. My heart skipped a beat as I realized that I was now friends with Jake. I immediately send a text to Alicia and Dylan to notify them that Jake had accepted my friend request and not theirs. I finally had one thing over them.

I grinned victoriously and shut off my laptop.

_New school year, new Massie Block._


	4. Chapter 4

Where I Belong

**D-I-S-C-L-A-I-M-E-D**

"How about fuchsia and lime green?" I suggested.

Alicia, Dylan and I were at Starbucks discussing Kent and currently, Alicia and I were trying to agree on the color palette for our dorm room.

"Fuchsia and lime green are way overdone, Massie." says Dylan. Alicia nods in agreement. I shrug and look away. Since when were fuchsia and lime green overdone? When were they ever going to tell me this?

I roll back my shoulders and smirk.

Alpha Rule #23: Never look or be defeated by anyone.

"Why don't we use coral and turquoise as our color palette?" Alicia offered. "Girly and still totally in,"

"Agreed," Dylan and Alicia high fived and began giggling.

I clap my hands twice and smile. "Let's talk Jake Cunnington,"

"Let's talk about how you have him as a friend and were stuck as just requesters!" Alicia frowned. "Completely unfair,"

"Point!"

I raise my newly waxed eyebrows. "Jealous?"

"You wish. Any second now Jake will be accepting my friend request, sweetie," she says.

"Mhm," I roll my eyes. "Witch,"

"What Massie?"

"Oh, nothing your majesty." I grin widely and take a lengthy slip of my Strawberry and Crème Frappuccino.

"Fuc-"Dylan began.

"Coffee anyone?"

Updates will become more frequently! At least twice a week3

Review and Rate mi amigos?(;


	5. Chapter 5

Where I Belong

**D-I-S-C-L-A-I-M-E-D**

As I exit the elevator and enter onto the thirteen floor I am shocked to find my mother, Tiffany Block, standing over a stove. She's wearing a seriously unglamorous apron that reads "Kiss the Cook" over her perfectly coiffed clothes, a black Diane Von Furstenberg dress with a full skirt and a long string of pearls. The black and white combo highlights her naturally honey blonde locks. It makes me mad to see that dress because I had picked it out on a rare shopping excursion with my mom, but the store only had it in her size: a size two. She told me that she would order me one in my size, but I couldn't bear the depressing notion that I would be a Jumbo-Tiffany. Being fatter than your mom is a common issue for the kids at my school. So I am fatter than my mom. I imagine that I will spend a great portion of my adult years on a couch discussing this injustice with my shrink.

"Massie, is something wrong with your phone again? Why didn't you answer when I called you twice yesterday and today?" my mom says as she stirs the chicken steeped in red wine. She stops churning to take a sip out of a very full glass of white wine.

"Why are you cooking again, Mom? And where'd you get that apron? Is Maria okay?" I look around for our fifty-something Mexican housekeeper, who's always at the apartment until at least nine at night. She's worked for our family for years and helps to keep our lives stable.

"Maria's fine. She took the train back to Coney Island this afternoon. And I've cooked before, Massie. Just not in a while. Besides, I thought it would be nice to have some real food for our talk."

"Whatever, mom. But let's make this quick, I have a serious migraine."

"Massie, this is important." my mom says and turns back to the stove.

I roll my eyes and stick up the finger. Take that, mom!

"Massie, one more thing: Set the table."

I give my mother a looks like she must not have taken her meds. Yes, we have a kitchen table. And a dining room table. But we don't eat at them. My mom picks at carrots out of the fridge. I order in miso soup and sit at the counter with my computer. And my little brother, Topher, uses an end table to eat the grease he's had delivered from the diner while he watches terrible TV. It's what we do, and it works.

But my mother's face goes all desperate in a way I've never seen before, so I put out four plates, silverware, and three wineglasses: hopefully, my parents will at least give me a little vino for doing chores.

"Thanks, Massie," my mother says, pushing the hair out of her face. "Go get your brother, please," she adds.

I walk to the hallway. "Topher," I say as I approach his door. No answer, so I knock slowly. Topher's twelve and ever since the day I found a Miley Cyrus poster in his desk drawer, I no longer enter this room.

Ninety-five pounds of sandy blonde hair and blue eye hop out of the room.

"Do you know anything about this meeting?" he asks. He raises his eyebrow. His blue eyes sparkle a little bit (why are mine hazel?)

"No, it's weird. Who seriously has family meeting anymore?" I say." I hope they're not getting a divorce or even worse, having a baby." Its bad enough I have to share everything with Topher: I don't feel like getting my inheritance divided into thirds.

Topher's eyes widen and his mouth hangs open. He looks like he's only eight years old. "You think they're having a baby?" Topher says slowly.

I laugh a little in the inside because Topher is definitely the baby and the favorite so this would kill him. "Well, you never know Topher but probably not, why would they have another one after what happened with you? It's an experiment gone seriously wrong."

"You're mean, Massie." Topher sticks out his tongue and pushes me aside. "Do you want to hear about my chess game?"

"I'll pass." I shake my head. "And in five years, you are going to wish you picked a cooler hobby than chess. Girls don't really dig guys who spend all their time playing with figurines."

Topher rolls his eye at me. "They aren't figurines: they are kings, queens, knights, bishops, rooks and pawns. And I'm not taking love advice from someone who is in high school and doesn't even have a boyfriend."

Beelining for the dining room, I don't bother to explain to Topher that being single is a personal choice. Why would I get a boyfriend before boarding school?

Topher and I approach the table at the same time that my mother and father do. It's awkward because none of us knows where to sit. Finally, Topher sits down and I sit next to him and Mom and Dad follow.

"So what's the big announcement?" Topher implores. "A puppy?"

"How old are you are?" I ask. "Do me a favor: don't tell people were related." If I had any say in my birth order. I would've chosen an older brother with hot friends. But since I wasn't consulted I got stuck with Topher.

"Massie, use your filter," my mom says. This is a common phrase in our household. Apparently, my parents aren't aware of the whole freedom of speech deal.

Dad breaks in, "Kids, this isn't easy, but we've got some big changes coming up in the future."

"Not a baby!" Topher cries.

"Not a baby," Mom answers and she almost breaks a smile.

"Last week the bank made its final round of layoffs," Dad starts.

I suddenly realize that my fifty-something father looks almost ten years older than the last time I saw him. His gray hair doesn't look classy: it just looks gray in an elderly way. I make a mental note to tell my mom that her hair guy Ricardo should fix this. And Dad's suit is wrinkled. I hope he's not sick.

"…And so we're going to need to make some changes…" My mom trails off as she pushes her chicken around her plate.

My parents just stare at me and appear to be waiting for me to respond. I must've missed something during that whole gray-hair train of though.

"Sorry, guys. I am way too discombobulated. Can we rewind?' I say checking my watch.

"Honey, I said that I got laid off, and we lost a significant chunk of saving with a bad investment." my dad says.

"What are the changes for us?" Topher asks.

Tried to make it longer than usual! Hope you enjoyed it and the little boring cliffhanger there(:

Reviews make my day(:


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